


The Itch You Can't Control

by CitrusVanille



Series: I Do Confess, It's The Mess That Feels So Right [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Jealous Harry Potter, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: Harry corners Neville outside the greenhouses.





	The Itch You Can't Control

Harry corners Neville outside the greenhouses. “Did you talk to Granger about us?” he demands, and that’s not exactly how he’d meant for it to come out, but the damn girl has been scowling at him for the past two days, and he hasn’t actually done anything to her recently that would warrant that kind of behavior. It’s getting to be disturbing.

“Always nice to see you, too, Potter,” Neville says, sarcasm impressive even by Slytherin standards. “I wasn’t aware there was an ‘us’ for me to talk to Hermione about. Whyever would I want to talk to her about you, anyway?”

Harry takes a half step back, startled and feeling oddly enough a bit like he’s been slapped. He hadn’t realized quite how close he was to begin with, but even moving away he can feel the shimmer of air on his face from Neville’s breath. “What are you brassed off about?” Harry asks, because Neville does not get to be angry just now. Harry already has dibs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Neville tells him loftily. “Now if you don’t mind, it’s freezing out here. It’s mid-February after all. I’d like to go inside where it’s warm.” He tries to brush past, but Harry reaches out and grabs his wrist, can’t help but let out a short laugh, because _of course_. It’s ridiculous and all so very _Gryffindor_ of Neville. Harry should have seen it immediately.

“Let go of me,” Neville jerks his arm, but Harry just tightens his grip, pulls the other boy back against him, catches his other arm and pins it to his side when he tries to elbow Harry in the ribs.

“Is that what has your panties in a bunch?” Harry asks, smirks even though Neville can’t see it. “Because I’m not asking you to Hogsmeade next weekend.”

Neville tries to twist loose again, fails, says, “Fuck you, like I’d ever expect something like that. Hermione and I already have plans.”

Harry’s stomach clenches uncomfortably and he tightens his hold again, grits his teeth briefly, then forces himself to shrug it off. “How quaint,” he says, can’t help the rough edge to his voice, doesn’t bother to try as he leans in over Neville’s shoulder to speak into his ear. “Doesn’t explain why your girlfriend has been looking at me like I killed her puppy.”

“Maybe you should ask her, if you want to know what she’s thinking,” Neville suggests, tone waspish. He’s not struggling anymore, but Harry can feel the tension in every line of his body. “I wouldn’t mention puppy killing, though. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

Something uncurls in Harry’s stomach, loosening in his chest. “Right then,” he says, lets it come out like he doesn’t believe it, isn’t sure if he does, can’t decide if he should care, thinks probably he shouldn’t.

Neville snorts. “You going to let me go, now?” he asks, like he thinks Harry’s maybe forgotten he’s got an armful of warm, irritated teenaged boy.

“Why not?” Harry says, voice still rough and low, then he forces Neville around to face him, kisses him hard and fast on the mouth, and lets him go, stepping away fast enough that the other boy stumbles. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, letting himself smirk again.

“You self-righteous fuck,” Neville hisses and turns on his heel, marching up towards the castle in what Harry would have called a huff were it anyone else.

Harry watches him go, and lets his smirk turn into a full-fledged grin as he walks back to the castle himself, at a slower pace. The day definitely seems to be looking up.


End file.
